I'm feeling curious. And a little greedy. Or ambitious, whatever you want to call it. Maybe I'm just riding out the high of all the reviews and follows and favorites this week. Anyway, this currently has 92 reviews. If we can get it up to 100 by Sunday I'll post the next chapter. Get it to 105 and I'll post a sneak-peek of the one after that. Whatdaya say, kiddos? Up for it?

Alright, now that I've whored my mind out for reviews... thank you all for reading and favoriting, following, or both. :) Super special thanks to pretty-pleasee, Midnight'sRevenge, BlueEyedWolf33, Caella, mangesboy01, Guest (Thanks. :) Liam will definitely be playing a role throughout this. A relatively big one.), and XxEyelinerHeartsxX. You guys make my day.

Also, I actually have a poll up. And, if it goes well (meaning people actually vote), I may post some others concerning things that I'm debating on.

I wake on a bed.

I don't know where I am.

This place is strange. It has an odd feeling to it, like it hasn't been lived in. There are no curtains on the windows and the closets are empty. There's no furniture anywhere save for the bed I awoke on and the table and chairs in the kitchen. There's a light coating of dust everywhere and, where the sun streams through the windows, I can see it dancing in the air. I wander through the house looking for some sign of habitation, but I find none.

My fingers clutch at the doorknobs and claw at the windows, trying to open them, trying to get out.

It's no use though.

I'm alone.

I collapse onto the floor in a heap, automatically hugging my knees tight to my chest.

I wish-

Then it clicks. There was a phone in the hallway. Maybe I can call home and try to figure out what's going on.

I run pell-mell down the hall, skidding to a halt in front of the old, dusty telephone before clutching at it as if it were my only lifeline. I dial the number for home and hear the phone ring, my heart rate increasing with every passing moment.

"Hello?" It's Castalia; her voice is hoarse as if she's been crying. I can't imagine the carnage left behind at the house. As awful as it's been for me, it had to be worse for them; they didn't get any medicine to keep them unconscious.

I sigh in relief though, surely they're ok. "Cassie, it's me."

"Nicci!" she sobs. "Where are you? What happened?"

"I don't know. I don't know," I sputter, tears running down my cheeks. "Call Finnick or Liam. They'll know what to do."

"Are you ok?"

I nod before realizing she can't see me. "Yeah. Just scared. Are you ok?"

"We're fine. No panic attack?"

"No. I think they drugged me, like they did in the Capitol."

"Nic," her voice is strangled.

"I'll be ok. Just call Finnick or Liam. Now."

"I love you, Nicci. Call me as soon as you can."

The phone call ends with a click.

I settle the receiver back in the cradle and wipe at my tears.

"Hello, Miss Cosgrove."

My heart stops as I slowly turn to face President Snow.

He's seated in one of the kitchen chairs as if he's been there all morning. He sends a cruel smile my way, gesturing for me to take the seat opposite him.

Numbly, I make my way over, my eyes never leaving his sickly thin face. He's wearing a white suit with a red rose in the lapel, the scent filling the kitchen to a nauseating point. It's the exact same as the last time I met him, when he crowned Cato and I as Victors.

"I'm glad to see you're awake and of sound mind and body."

I snort. There's nothing sound about my state of mind.

"You're probably wondering what's going on."

I nod as I settle into the seat.

"I needed to have a conversation with you and remind you of your duties." He leans forward on the last word, the smell of blood permeating through the air, overpowering the scent of roses.

I nervously swallow the bile that rises up my throat. "What duties are those?" I ask, attempting to make them sound harsh and cold, but they come out weak, the words of a scared, little girl.

He chuckles and leans back in his seat, fingers forming a steeple in front of his face. "Your duties to the Capitol, my dear. They are the reason you're alive right now."

A knot forms in my stomach. I have no duties to the Capitol. My relationship with Cato has given me immunity. I don't have to sell my body and time to meaningless citizens who'll forget about me in a year when the new model comes out. No. He's lying. He has to be.

He smiles at me. "You seem to have forgotten where your allegiances lay. And to some, it would appear you've forgotten just who you're in love with," he pauses, "and the fact that I can take him and every other person you love away from you."

I blink at him in surprise. I haven't forgotten who I'm in love with.

"Have you met Finnick's family?"

I shake my head.

"That's because I had them killed, Miss Cosgrove. He forgot his place too." He lets out another dark chuckle. "Liam knows a thing or two about that as well." He stands up to leave, a cane clicking on the hardwood floor. "Just remember that things didn't have to end badly for Guinevere."

I cock an eyebrow at him. "I'm sorry, sir, I don't-"

"Camelot wouldn't have been destroyed had Guinevere feared the might of Excalibur more. Her meddling with Lancelot cost Arthur his life." He looks deep into my eyes, attempting to convey meaning that I can't manage to grasp. "It would be a shame if a modern Guinevere couldn't learn from her predecessor." He sweeps out of the room, the backdoor opening before he can even touch it.

I feel the pieces fall into place in my mind. Guinevere, Lancelot, Arthur, Excalibur. Me, Finnick, Cato, Snow. Without actually saying it, Snow has threatened me away from Finnick with Cato's life. I glare at his shadow in the doorway as it becomes engulfed by two Peacekeepers. How dare he!

"Blindfold her and take her away."

Before I can react, they have me tied, gagged, and blindfolded and are leading me out of the room and into the cool air outside.

A clammy hand caresses my bare arm then cups my face. "Remember what I said, Miss Cosgrove."

I hear the sound of his cane clicking away as I'm shoved in the opposite direction by Peacekeepers. I stumble across what feels like cobblestone, my bare feet catching on the edges of them as I'm pushed along.

A door is opened and I'm shoved into a room.

"Another dose?" The voice is deep, but distinctly female. There's no vocal response, just the jab of another needle in my arm. Moments later, I collapse.

The sunlight blinds me. I sit up on another bed, blearily rubbing my eyes as I look around. This house seems more lived in, but still not homey like mine or any of the houses I've been in before today.

I race downstairs to the door and try wriggling the handle, wanting out and away, to run off like a scared animal, but it's no use. It's the same as the other house.

I run to a window, but have the same issue. It won't open. Even the view doesn't help, all I can see is a generic cul-de-sac with cobblestones and a small statue fountain in the center. I have no idea where I am or what I'm doing here. Why did Snow have to take me away from home to have that talk with me? Why couldn't it have taken place in my own District? And why'd he have to dump me in this second house?

Deep down, I know why though. In a strange place, Snow held the power. My ability to fight back was nonexistent. He was able to threaten me and terrify me without breaking a sweat.

The threat terrifies me. I don't want Cato to die. I don't want my family or friends to die. I also don't want to become a plaything of the Capitol, another puppet for them to tug around and use however they please. There's no winning though, no matter what I do something will go wrong.

A sob wracks my body as I crumple in on myself. I'm scared and confused and so alone.

When the tears slow and I feel like I have more control, I seek comfort in the upstairs shower; it's the closest I can get to the ocean. The warm water pounds against my body, melding with new tears.

I wish I could form some kind of escape plan, but I don't know what to do other than wait and see what else Snow has in store for me.

I take some soap and begin scouring my body, attempting to wash away my fear.

It will all be alright. It will all be ok. Snow won't do anything too terrible to me. Nothing that can't be overcome anyway. If he does, he'll create another martyr for the Rebellion and he certainly doesn't want that.

A sick part of my mind reminds me that there are other kinds of terrible, the kind that a man who supports the murder of twenty-three innocent children every year would be extremely good at inflicting. The President is a professional at psychological warfare, at breaking you down until you have nothing left, not even the will to fight for your own life.

As I'm washing the soap off of my face, the shower curtain is ripped away. I let out a small scream as I turn to face my attacker, my hands forming into fists to assault whoever it is. I'm not going down without a fight again. But they fall to my sides a moment later.

"I'm in 2," I whisper. Comfort fills me with this information.

My eyes soak in every inch of Cato. The shocked look on his face, his messed up hair, the sweaty clothes he's wearing, and the fist that is slowly falling to his side. My heart jumps in my chest. He's here, alive and unharmed by President Snow.

He reaches out and tentatively touches my cheek before looking down at the rest of me, a smirk tugging at his mouth.

Embarrassment leads me to cover myself up, but I'm quickly stopped as Cato lets out a growl and shoves me up against the cool tile. His lips crash against mine, kissing me so hard that my lips feel like they may bruise. After a moment, my arms wrap around his neck and my lips eagerly move to keep pace with his.

He's alive. I'm in 2. Everything will be ok.

A chuckle comes from the doorway. "I take it whoever snuck into your house is a welcome visitor then."

My eyes fly open at the same moment as Cato's. He turns to glare at the person in the door. His stance is wide, arms held out at his sides to shield me from whoever it is. I peer under his arm though to see another tall male with dark brown hair and green eyes leaned up against the frame of the door.

He smirks when our eyes meet. "Ah. Your little plaything from the Games."

A knife stabs at my heart, tears pricking the corners of my eyes. I wasn't a plaything.

The man's eyes return to Cato who's letting out a low growl. "I'll leave you to it." He turns and walks away, the bathroom door clicking shut behind him.

Cato's arms drop to his sides as he turns to face me again. "You should have told me you were coming."

"It wasn't a scheduled visit," I whisper, hugging myself as an image of Snow flashes in my mind. My eyes meet his and I find my mouth speaking before my brain can stop it, asking the question I can't seem to get out of my head, one brought forward again by the boy. "It wasn't just an act for you, was it?"

His arms wrap around me and I can smell the sweat and the metallic scent that I've come to associate with Cato on his skin. "Ignore Nero. He just likes causing trouble."

I push away, my eyes zeroing in on his. "You didn't answer my question."

He sighs. "No, Nicaea. I wasn't using you to win. I told you that before."

"Do you love me?" Again, the words are out there without my mind's approval, but I need these things reaffirmed. He hasn't said it since that day on the train.

He gives another sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. My heart plummets. "You know that I do." My eyes fly up to his face. "I wouldn't have said it before if I hadn't meant it, Nic."

I nod. That's the best I can hope to pry out of him for now.

He peels his wet shirt off and hands it over to me. I quirk my head to the side and he smirks at me. "You're covered in goosebumps."

I blush, remembering my nakedness, and tug the shirt on as he begins pulling his pants down. My cheeks heat up even more and I hurry out of the shower stall. "I'm going to go get dressed."

His chuckle follows me as I scurry out of the room, grabbing a towel off the rack as I go.

My body collapses on his bed, wet hair flying to land in a halo around my head. My mind is whirring as it begins processing all this new information. I was kidnapped by Snow early this morning so he could warn me away from Finnick and shove me into Cato's arms. And Cato… he loves me. A blush rises in my cheeks at the thought.

I tug the shirt off over my head. There will be time to think about that more later.

The towel hastily rubs over my body, thirstily soaking up the droplets of water. With a brief thought given to my abandoned clothes in the bathroom, I wrap the towel tightly around me and wander off down the stairs in search of a telephone. I need to talk to the others again, touch base and let them know what's happened and that I'm alright.

At the bottom of the stairs, I walk down a hallway towards what should be the kitchen. My phone is in the hallway next to the kitchen, the house earlier had a phone by the kitchen, and I hope this house is similar. It doesn't disappoint and I grasp the phone like the lifeline it is. With shaking fingers, I dial the number for home.

"Nicci?" the voice says before the second ring.

"Cassie," I sigh. "I'm in 2. With Cato. President Snow set it up." I leave out the details, this phone is probably tapped and I won't be helping anyone if I say anything bad.

She sighs now. "Good. You're ok?"

"Yeah. I'll call you later. I need to try and talk to Finnick again."

"We already called him. He said he was heading back. I'll try and catch him." She pauses and I hear her murmuring to someone on the other end. "Go have fun with Cato, Nicci. I love you."

"I love you too," I say, smiling.

The phone goes back in the holster and I blearily wipe my eyes. I'm exhausted. I wearily climb the stairs and go into the bedroom, collapsing on the bed without a second thought.

My breathing is erratic when I wake up. I clutch at my throat, trying to breathe, but it doesn't work. My feet kick at the bed sheets around me, trying to get free. I can't. I'm stuck. A hoarse scream escapes my throat, a strangled form of Cato's name. I claw at the sheets, trying to get a purchase and free myself so I can breathe.

Arms wrap around me, hold me down.

I claw at them, drawing blood.

There's a low curse and a holler.

I scream again, trying to get air into my lungs while I fight to get away.

If I can just get outside, I know I'll be alright.

My heart is pounding in my eardrums. It's drowning out all other sound now.

The same bag as always goes over my mouth. I can't see in the dark. I don't know who it is. I can't even hear them over the pounding of my heart, but I know they're speaking to me, I can feel their breath on my ear. I want to fight, but I instinctively breathe as deeply as I can, attempting to fill and empty the bag.

I collapse onto the bed a while later, covered in a light sheen of sweat from trying to get away.

A light comes on.

"What the hell was that?"

I don't open my eyes, choosing to focus on maintaining my slower breathing, but I know it's Cato. I open my mouth to answer, but someone else beats me to it. "She has panic attacks. They've been better lately, but the stress from today must have done her in. She's still in a fragile state. The Games shook her up."

Finnick.

I look up at him and smile faintly. He's always there to help me, like the best sort of brother.

He smiles back at me.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

My eyes flutter over to Cato, the smile falling from my face when I see his bloody arms and the irritated scowl on his face. I beat Finnick to the punch this time, rising to my feet so I'm standing directly in front of him. "It isn't exactly something you say over the phone," I whisper, my voice slightly hoarse from the screaming.

He looks down at me, concern evident in his eyes.

I lightly touch his arm. "I'm sorry." I turn away, looking at the door I so desperately wanted to get out of a few minutes before. "I need a drink. I'll be back."

The wood and tile are cool on my feet as I make my way to the kitchen and I hug myself for warmth, hopping from one foot to the other as the tap fills the glass with water. I drink slowly, luxuriating in the feel of the cold water on my sore throat.

When I'm done, I creep back upstairs, moving quietly in the moonlight. Halfway up, I hear voices.

"If it's any consolation, you're the one she always calls for," I hear Finnick say. "I've always been the one to bring her down from it, but she never wants me. She always wants you."

A squeak of the mattress tells me one of them's sat down on the bed. I creep slightly closer, my feet silent on the stairs.

"Look, if you can't handle the pressure, kid, tell me now and I'll start weaning her off of you. That girl is the closest thing I have to family and I won't let you hurt her." The threat in Finnick's tone scares me slightly. I've never heard him so upset before.

"I just didn't know she was that bad."

"She's a good actress." Another creak of the mattress.

"Does Annie have panic attacks too?"

"She did. They're rare now, but if she gets startled or scared she'll freeze up. And if you throw something new at her she'll wander around lost for days until she reestablishes a routine." Finnick sighs and I know he's running his hands through his messy hair.

"I'm glad you were here. I wouldn't have known what to do."

"She had Castalia call me. I knew she needed me."

"You love her."

"I do. She, Annie, and the other Victors are all the family I have left."

Tears well up in my eyes and I rub at them viciously. I will not cry.

The next stair creaks and the voices stop. I walk into the room, blinking in the light. Cato and Finnick are both sitting on the bed looking completely worn out. I give them a small smile and plop down between the two of them.

"I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize, cupcake." Finnick ruffles my hair then stands up, leaning back until his back lets out a pop. "I'll be next door if you need me again." He wanders off into the hallway and I listen to his footsteps until a door shuts and silence descends around us.

I look over at Cato. His elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped tightly in front of him. The blood's been washed from his arms, but the scratches are still visible, long lines of pink against his skin. I tentatively reach out and touch one. He looks up at me, meeting my eyes. The fury from earlier is gone. There's only curiosity.

"Why didn't you tell me? I could have handled it."

He knows it wasn't just that I didn't want to tell him over the telephone. I sigh and lean against him, my arm sliding through to loop around his and my head resting on his shoulder. "I'll explain everything later. I promise. For now we just have to let things be." He lets out a low rumble of disapproval. "Growling won't help. I'll tell you everything you want to know later." I look up at him. "Everything."

After a moment, he nods and I smile inwardly. I hadn't expected him to drop the subject so quickly, but I take it. I lean up and kiss him on the cheek before crawling up the bed and burrowing under the covers.

When I wake up, Cato's playing with my hair. I smile sheepishly up at him before rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and snuggling in close to his side. He smells wonderful and I love how warm his skin feels against mine.

"Go back to sleep, babe. It's still early." His voice is rough and gravelly.

A shiver works up my spine as he traces a pattern down my back. "Are you going to too?"

"Eventually."

I nod and close my eyes, easily slipping back into sleep.

The third time I wake up, I'm alone. I rub at my eyes, blinking in the sunlight, before stretching deliciously across the bed, my back popping loudly in the silence. I clean up quickly in the bathroom, scrubbing my face and tying my hair back.

As I meander downstairs, I listen for other voices, any sign really as to where the other two are.

"Why not?" It's Cato. He doesn't sound happy either.

"You saw what happened last night. She isn't stable enough yet. If you'll come down, I'll show you how to take care of her in case she has another attack, then you two can go wherever."

"Why do you get to say where she goes? Shouldn't she decide?"

"Mentoring doesn't end once you're out of the Arena."

I nibble my bottom lip as I stand outside of the kitchen. I hadn't thought about staying here. Granted, I hadn't been conscious much the last day and a half. My mind wanders back home to Keenan and the girls. I can't just up and leave them for an unknown amount of time. I'll come back for another visit, a scheduled one next time. I'd really like to spend more time getting to know Cato. Actually know him.

"You really think she can't handle this?"

"Keenan mentioned you and she had a panic attack. I just… I don't know how wise it would be right now."

I hang my head as shame washes over me. I still don't know why that happened and I feel awful about it, awful that Cato had to hear about it. I hug my arms close to me and look down the hall at the large oak door.

"Nic."

I look up to see Cato, his arms crossed over his chest. He really isn't happy. I knew it.

"Cato, I-"

He shakes his head and my mouth snaps shut. "You need to eat. We'll talk later."

My head bobs up and down and I follow him into the kitchen.

"Eat up, cupcake. Train leaves in less than an hour."